The Sicilian
by Bruteaous
Summary: Sophia Petrillo, from her earliest beginnings to her family years in Brooklyn. This is her story.


**The Sicilian **

**_Disclaimer:_** It do not own Sophia or any of the other _Golden Girls _characters. They belong to Bruna Visita and to the _Golden Girls_ writers.

**Chapter 1: Comune di Corleone **

**_April 12, 1906_**

It was dark and the stars in the midnight sky reflected down upon the modest rooftops of the little village. Village boys who had been playing stick ball in the streets all evening were slapped, cursed, and dragged by their ears back to their homes by their mothers. Small children were in their beds. The baker, the butcher, the wine seller, and the fruit vendor had all closed their stands for the night. Hoof beats turned the dirt of a small path outside of Corleone. The wheels of a calamari wagon sped over the rough terrain, eager to return home.

Antonio Guiliano smacked the worn out reigns against his mules backside once more, causing the carriage to speed up a small fraction. After a long day of work he was finally headed home to his family. What a hot day it had been and the humidity of the night was no less refreshing. Sweat stained the underarms of his off white button down shirt right down his sides to his open brown vest. His burly mustache and the dark curls about his head were tinged even now with a slight blush of approaching grey. The light of Sicily's moon highlighted the dark brown of his eyes and the bushy groves of his ebony eyebrows as he rode by.

Within sight of the cart came a small house. It was a modest dwelling, quite normal by Sicilian standards, but to a middle class American, it would appear too small to house such a large family as the Guilianos. The door flew open and two boys, one taller and one smaller, ran out waving their hats at their father's approaching carriage. The taller one, Tommaso, caught up to his father first while the younger, Angelo, had to quicken his pace to keep up with his brother's long strides.

Tommaso bent over as he tried to catch his breath, but Angelo, a tan faced child of four, stood tall and trying to calm his breathing.

Antonio stopped his carriage and looked thoughtfully down at his boys, "Well, what is it?"

Tommaso stood up running a hand errantly through his chocolate hair. "Papa, Mama said to fetch the Doctor Scipio. It is time."

Antonio, a man already middle aged, leapt from the carriage with the agility of a man half his years and hoisted his elder son up on the drivers bench. "Ride into town, to the doctor's house and bring him back quickly."

"What should I tell him, Papa?" Tommaso asked as he took up the reigns.

"Nothing. I've called for him enough over the years he won't ask questions, he'll just come."

Tommaso nodded and whacked the mule on its rump with the leather straps, racing haphazardly off towards the town of Corleone.

Angelo watched enviously after his older brother. Oh, how jealous he was of how his brother got to drive the carriage. How grown up he looked. It only he could drive that carriage, yell to the mule 'Hei! Hei' and sit up tall when passersby commented amoung themselves on how he was more like a man than even his brother. Angelo's daydreaming ended abruptly with a surprised yelp as his father picked him up roughly and slung him over his shoulder as he ran to the house with his youngest son on his back.

---------

It had been over an hour now. Antonio paced back and forth before his hearth, worrying as Doctor Scipio and the Midwife tended to his Francesca in the next room. His five other children sat in different areas of the room that served as both a kitchen and a dining alcove.

Tommaso was sitting on a gnarled wooden chair at the table, kneading his black cap in both hands. He was an older boy of twelve, almost a man. His hair was short and brown, messy about his scalp

Leo was sitting on the dirt floor against the wall which was moist with the breath of the night. He was the second eldest, an eight year old with sun kissed skin and hair as black as coal.

Esteban, the middle son, was laying sideways, his feet a hair's length from Leonardo and his head resting on the sleeping form of little Angelo who was sucking his brown thumb in sleep.

Leaning sleepily against Leonardo's side was Angela, a dark haired infant, his sister of two years; resting comfortably mashed up against him, wrapped in one of his arms.

Antonio turned slightly to one side to resume his pacing in a new direction when he heard a high pitched cry come from his wife's room. The door opened and out walked Doctor Valentino Scipio, running his ragged handkerchief across his wrinkled forehead.

He looked up and smiled encouragingly at the anxious face of one of his most frequent clients, "It is a girl."

"And my Francesca?"

"She is fine. Midwife Sanucchi is tending to her now." The doctor reassured. "You can see her now. I request only the regular price for my services: one wheel of fresh goat's cheese and one chicken for my wife's table." The elderly doctor regarded the frazzled looking man in front of him, then shouted jovially, "Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Go to her!"

Antonio practically jumped out of his stupor and sped past the doctor into his wife's room. Laughing, Doctor Scipio replaced his cap on his head and pulled his jacket up around him. Then he gestured to Tommaso.

"Come boy, my wife will be missing me." Scipio said as Tommaso ran out of the house to pull the wagon around.

Antonio suddenly ran out of the room and grabbed the Doctor's arm in gratitude. "Thank you, Valentino. We have decided to name her Sophia, in honor of your wife and her safe return to Palermo."

Valentino was truly touched, he grasped Antonio's other arm in friendship. "She will be pleased to hear that. _Bona Fortuna_, my friend, _Bona Fortuna_." Then the doctor was gone.

Angelo had stirred during all of the commotion and was now leaning against is elbow on the floor staring at his brother Leonardo.

"Sophia? What does that mean?" Angelo asked wearily.

Leonardo sighed and rubbed his bottomless pit of a stomach, "Less to eat and more work to do and crying and less sleep too."

Angelo grumbled and leaned back against the wall, "Little sisters, too much work."

**Author's Note:** I made Sophia's place of origin the town of Corleone, Sicily mostly because it is in Palermo, which Sophia mentions she is from and because it has some mafia connections (five actual _Cosa Nostra_ bosses were born there!) just as Sophia has hinted her family does (not that I'll show any of that in here). I hope everyone enjoyed this first chapter. Please read and review! All feedback is appreciated! Thanks!


End file.
